


tumbling hair, picker of buttercups

by Anonymous



Series: cherry blossom season [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Hwang Hyunjin is Whipped, M/M, also me shoehorning my 2min agenda in here as well, he was also blonde when i wrote this lmao, how does the quote go? write the seungjin fic you wish to see in the world?, kim seungmin best boy, please look away the author is Yearning, seungmin is clueless and hyunjin is tiredt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28796031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Hyunjin and Seungmin have shared the same homeroom for years, quietly orbiting each other's presence until Hyunjin wrecks a bed of Seungmin's baby begonias and offers to help replant them in apology.alternatively, seungmin plants flowers and hyunjin wants to be the prettiest one in his garden.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin
Series: cherry blossom season [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136198
Comments: 38
Kudos: 193
Collections: Anonymous





	tumbling hair, picker of buttercups

**Author's Note:**

> **Tumbling-hair  
>  picker of buttercups**  
> violets  
> dandelions  
> And the big bullying daisies  
> through the field wonderful  
> with eyes a little sorry  
>  **Another comes  
>  also picking flowers**
> 
> \- e.e. cummings   
> 

If there was ever a sunflower that could bend the Sun to its will, it would be Hwang Hyunjin, who as a human already seems to cast everyone else around him in shadows every time he so much as enters a room.

Without meaning to, he always manages to catch Seungmin’s eye, although it’s usually due to the sounds of his booming laughter echoing down hallways and drifting in through the open windows looking into their classroom. On that particular day, Seungmin hears the trills of it through his headphones as he idly listens along to an old Day6 album, staring out the window waiting for the passing period to end and for homeroom to begin.

Everyone’s still appropriately abuzz coming back from spring break, playing catch-up with friends and exchanging any gifts picked up during vacation. Hyunjin is no exception, stepping into the classroom with Jisung hot on his heels, the latter in the middle of giving Hyunjin and everyone else in a thirty mile listening radius a play-by-play of his prodigal return to Malaysia. His hands are waving in big, exaggerated motions and vaguely, Seungmin thinks he’s gonna knock something or someone over if he isn’t more careful.

Hyunjin seems to have the same idea, pinning the two appendages to Jisung’s side as he leads them to their respective desks, which does nothing to hamper Jisung’s more enthusiastic style of storytelling. The blonde only laughs further as he moves to settle on top of his desk, forearms locked and braced behind him when he leans back at an angle, unknowingly basking in everyone’s collective admiration.

From one row and two seats behind them, Seungmin has to tear his eyes away before he gets caught staring, which wouldn’t be for the first time considering he does it a lot.

Stare at Hyunjin, that is.

It’s just the photographer in him, Seungmin reasons, admiring beauty in all forms. Hyunjin is just the most obvious display of it, a tangible equivalent to the abstract concepts of beauty and perfection . . . which seems like a loaded thought to have and _not_ equate it to Seungmin having a big, fat crush on the most popular boy in school.

But that is neither here nor there. At least until Felix comes back from his extended break next Tuesday and can bug Seungmin about it, once again.

He returns his gaze out the window, drawn towards the hedges and flower beds nearest the bike racks down below. Seungmin already spots a few clumps of weed that need to be pulled and some bushes that need pruning and already, he’s itching to roll up his shirt sleeves and get started after being away for so long. He would’ve done so this morning if his mom didn't make him run an errand that lasted longer than expected, preventing Seungmin from picking up where he left off with his gardening endeavors.

The school has neither the time nor money to dedicate towards any sort of landscaping or school beautification outside of keeping the sidewalks clear and the sports fields somewhat maintained. After obtaining permission, Seungmin goes about starting up a series of gardens on and around school grounds. There’s really no harm in it, seeing as how Seungmin is a top student looking to add another achievement to his record and this project can only benefit the school’s public image.

Lazily, Seungmin runs through a mental checklist of places he needs to visit after school, starting with his begonias out back.

This lasts for a few minutes before inevitably, his eyes slide back towards Hyunjin, who catches Seungmin off-guard with his own inscrutable gaze.

Surprised, his heart stops and stutters in his chest.

Hyunjin smiles with his eyes, two crescent shapes that form much too soft around the corners. “Did you have a good break Seungmin?” he asks, politely.

Seungmin’s voice gets stuck in his throat and he can only nod in response. The words _How was yours?_ dies a honeyed death on his tongue.

To his credit, Hyunjin doesn’t seem bothered by the lack of reciprocation. Only hums “That’s good to hear” before returning back to his earlier conversation with Jisung. (Seungmin misses the pink tinge that colors the tips of Hyunjin’s ears, hard to see despite the fact that Hyunjin has tucked a few locks of silken hair behind them.)

In a way, Seungmin feels dismissed, even though it’s technically his fault the conversation was curtailed. Seungmin doesn’t hold any expectations when it comes to Hyunjin (how can he? When Hyunjin is the way that he is, entirely unreachable), but feels disappointed nonetheless. Normally, Seungmin’s content to just exist in the same space as his classmate, but something in the way Hyunjin was staring earlier niggles in the back of Seungmin’s brain, desperate for attention, only he can’t even begin to understand what it could mean and would give him a migraine to try and sort out.

And so, like everything else Seungmin doesn’t understand, he sets it aside for later.

-

Seungmin elects to take lunch in the library for a number of reasons, the main one being so that he can bother Minho, who has desk duty for the week. He categorically refuses to admit that his relationship with the senior is anything friendlier than being casual acquaintances at best, but somehow Seungmin managed to miss the other’s presence over their two week vacation, and has student council duties to attend to besides.

As Treasurer, Seungmin has full reins to draft up their end of year budget proposal. Minho, as President, has the ability to veto said budget outright—a power which Seungmin suspects he’ll exercise for the sole purpose of driving his beloved hoobae up a wall. Unfortunately, Seungmin still has to run the proposal past Minho before he can present it to the rest of council on Friday and secretly, he’s worried about the item he slipped in at the end that may or may not be totally kosher.

“Seungminnie~” Minho sing-songs, perking up upon the younger’s arrival. It appears his senior is in a flirtatious mood today, as opposed to his customary combative one (directed almost exclusively towards Seungmin, his favorite and oft-targeted prey). The younger watches as Minho’s mouth curls into its signature toothy grin, cat-like eyes tracking Seungmin’s steady approach

“Literally shut up,” is his automatic response, the delivery of which could almost be misconstrued as fond.

He glances around to find that the library isn’t totally empty. There’s probably a handful of kids scattered somewhere throughout the stacks, content to mind their own business as he and Minho do work and Seungmin sneaks in bites of his lunch. There is technically a No Food Allowed policy that hasn’t been enforced by anyone in years, but Seungmin likes feeling a little bit like a rebel every time he breaks off a piece of a particularly crumbly granola bar.

Minho places a mocking hand over his heart. “The enemies to lovers trope is so overdone but can be something that is so personal to me.”

He leans back in his seat, effortlessly cool. It often strikes Seungmin how handsome the older man is, a complete package when it comes to beauty ideals, although he’s not sure if it’s because of immunity or the initial shock factor rubbing off that Seungmin is so entirely unaffected. He doesn’t spend hours musing upon Minho’s attractiveness as he does with certain other people’s—the difference between a fleeting observation and the rabbit hole he falls down every time the topic of Hyunjin comes to mind.

He doesn’t have the time to wonder why that is.

“Sure.” Seungmin rolls his eyes and gets down to business without (much) further snarking. He pulls up a random chair next to the help desk and the two of them move almost amiably through Seungmin’s agenda for the next thirty minutes before they get to the second to last item on the report.

“What’s this about allocating 200,000 won for school beautification?” Minho asks, as perceptive as ever. In retrospect, Seungmin knew it was kind of a long-shot to try and slide anything past his senior.

He tries to disguise the bob of his Adam’s apple as he gulps. “The project Principal Park gave me.”

“What do your flowers have to do with student council?” Minho’s eyebrows raise ever so slightly.

It’s a fair question. Seungmin goes immediately on the defensive.

“Well I need to get the money from somewhere,” he deadpans, hoping to play at nonchalance. Minho might give up easier if it’s not as fun to play with his food. “Supplies don’t pay for themselves and I’ve been working out of pocket since March.”

“Isn’t this embezzlement?”

He levels the older boy a look. “Not if I’m telling you upfront where I’m spending the money?”

“Then improper use of funds.”

Seungmin sighs and starts to rattle off his pre-prepared speech. He came into this meeting knowing Minho was either going to shoot him down or at least put up a fight. It’s just annoying having to get to this point, is all. “Firstly, school beautification is to everyone’s benefit, but especially our student population. A beautiful space boosts student morale and -”

“Ah,” Minho places a singular finger against Seungmin’s open lips, effectively stopping the spiel that is about to unfurl for the remaining 15 minutes of lunch. He leans in close enough to whisper, “I don’t actually care. We can present this budget to Council on Friday and I’ll definitely be able to get everyone on board . . .”

“But?” Seungmin knows there’s a catch. There’s always a catch with Minho.

The older leans in even closer and puckers his lips, playful. “Kisses!”

He puts two fingers to Minho’s forehead and pushes him back. Seungmin goes to collect his things, papers and portfolios shoved ungracefully into his backpack. “I’ll prepare the powerpoint,” he offers and then sweeps summarily out the door.

He hears Minho’s giggles following him every step along the way.

-

The afternoon sun beats warm against his back.

“Hello little ones,” Seungmin greets, hose in hand as he bends over to inspect the growth of his baby begonias. A slight breeze rustles past their petals, delicate tips appearing like fingers waving back at him in acknowledgement.

He kneels down to admire the way they’ve grown almost twofold over the break, a few inches higher and stretching towards the sunlight partially blocked off by the south side of the school. Their legginess will have to be addressed, but the bloom he’s achieved with this bed is one that Seungmin is particularly proud of since it was the first one he planted when he undertook this project at the beginning of the season.

“Did you miss me while I was gone?”

The flowers don’t answer back, but he supposes he hears them all the same.

Getting down to business, Seungmin sets himself to the task of watering first, and hums a song under his breath as he works his way from bed to bed.

Gardening, to Seungmin, is entirely therapeutic. He likes the daily and cyclical routine of nurturing his seeds into fully-grown life, the crush of soil beneath his hands and knees, and the ability to measure the literal fruits of his labor. He appreciates the comfort in knowing that the work he puts in is the growth he’ll see out, without having to second-guess himself like he does sometimes with real life relationships, because people are complicated and Seungmin is _tired_.

But while he wouldn’t go so far as to say he prefers flowers over people, that’s not always a given at the end of a particularly long day. It seems that being thrust back into the chaos of school after an extended period of rest and relaxation has taken its toll.

“I bet you appreciated the peace and quiet, at least.”

Seungmin listens for an answer knowing he’ll never get one when instead, he hears his two loudest classmates fumbling towards him without showing any signs of stopping.

“I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT!”

“MOVE OVER HAN!”

A small, black-and-white object shoots forward between the two of them.

The pair are chasing after a soccer ball with too much aggression to justify the fact that they are both way out of bounds, childish competitiveness like blinders on their spatial awareness as they battle for control. Both are wearing their practice uniforms, having made varsity this year as juniors, and feeling a renewed sense that they have something to prove to their teammates and new head coach.

Seungmin couldn't care less about the context. He’s too busy calculating the trajectory of the ball and the results of Hyunjin and Jisung’s roughhousing, and blanches.

“Hey!” He yells in warning, but it is already too late.

The ball shoots through his bed of begonias, skidding towards the middle of the plot before coming to a stop. Jisung and Hyunjin follow accordingly, feet and ankles crossing as they take and retake possession in equal, destructive measure. Seungmin’s flowers are summarily trampled underfoot, crumpled and punctured beneath the spikes of unforgiving cleats. It is a metaphorical bloodbath, soon to become a real one as Seungmin grips his hose tighter and aims.

_“What the hell!?!?!”_

The boys splutter and run to get away from Seungmin’s steady blast of water. Pettily, he follows their escape route, made easier by the fact that neither Hyunjin or Jisung split off and instead beeline in a similar direction. When Seungmin is satisfied that they’re both soaked beyond measure, he tosses the hose aside and glares.

“Ya! Kim Seungmin!” Jisung yells once he’s wiped the water from his face and can clearly make out his surroundings. He quickly hones in on the brunette who is still shooting daggers with his eyes. The droplets from Jisung’s bangs coalesce and form rivulets that run in steady streams down his forehead and the curve of his cheeks. He looks so much like a drowned rat that it almost softens Seungmin’s heart.

_Almost._

Hyunjin, on the other hand, is still unfairly handsome, even when sopping wet, and merely slicks his hair back while he levels an accusatory (and hurt?) stare in Seungmin’s direction.

He channels his inner Felix when he tells them, “Deserved.”

Seungmin stands his ground, but his lips skew in a way that belies some momentary guilt. Maybe spraying them down with a hose was too extreme a measure and too out of character considering his usual even-keeled temperament? Only the sight of the trampled begonias makes Seungmin briefly see red and he doubles down on his reaction.

“Seungmin?” Hyunjin questions, not as loud as Jisung, but not so quietly either. Seungmin spots the beginnings of a pout.

“My flowers,” is all Seungmin says, upset seeping out and settling somewhere between his second and third rib. Despite being someone who never cries, Seungmin feels frustrated not knowing how to better express his disappointment, and what the sight of his love and labor gone to waste does to Seungmin’s emotions.

Embarrassingly, he feels a few tears leak out the corners of his eyes, partially impeded by the rim of his glasses, but eventually breaking free to slide down his cheeks. Seungmin lifts his frames and swipes at them quickly, trying to erase any evidence of vulnerability in front of his infinitely cooler classmates.

In tandem, the two boys’ heads turn downwards to witness the damage they’ve inflicted, and twin expressions of shame streak like falling stars across their face.

Hyunjin is the first to speak up. “Seungmin, I’m _so_ sorry.”

“It was an accident, I swear!”

“We didn’t mean to—”

Seungmin shakes his head. “Enough. I’m going home.”

He’s had a long day.

And also, if Seungmin has to look at Hyunjin’s guilt-ridden expression any longer, he might do something stupid like forgive him.

-

Seungmin arrives early at school the next day to see Hyunjin bent over and trying to salvage the four beds of begonias with little success. He is wearing his uniform, sleeves and the knees of his dress pants darkened with soil. Seungmin tries to ignore the wide expanse of Hyunjin’s shoulders as he approaches, watching sweat beads roll down the back of his neck and disappear beneath the collar.

“There’s no saving those flowers,” Seungmin points out, bland. After sleeping on it, the sting of yesterday’s loss doesn’t feel quite as sharp, and he’s no longer mad. A bit irritated, but not mad.

Hyunjin falls over dramatically, startled. “Waaaah!” He flips, ass-first, into the dirt and lifts two hands up as if to shield him from attack. Once he realizes that one isn’t incoming, Hyunjin lowers his arms to stare up at a highly-amused Seungmin, before bringing them to his chest in an effort to calm his hammering heartbeat.

He laughs and bends down to meet Hyunjin at eye-level.

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

The older boy blinks a few times as he stares at Seungmin’s still smiling face, like he has temporarily lost brain function or has short-circuited altogether. It is nice to see Hyunjin flustered sometimes.

With a shaky breath, his classmate replies, “I was worried you were going to hate me forever.”

Hyunjin? Worried?

Seungmin finds it fascinating that his good opinion is something that not only lingered in his classmate’s mind past yesterday afternoon, but had it hold enough weight to worry Hyunjin to the point where he looks genuinely distressed about it, too. It’s unexpectedly flattering.

Seungmin wants to take it personally, but the logical side of him chalks it up to the other’s people-pleasing qualities.

“I could never hate you,” he says truthfully. “But I _was_ very angry.”

Seungmin had gone home and collapsed on top of his bed without washing up or changing out of his clothes. Even dinner tasted bland, which isn’t so much a value statement on his mom’s cooking as it is an insight into his mental state that Seungmin couldn’t enjoy samgyetang of all things. His diary entry was a paltry three sentences long:

_Hwang Hyunjin ruined my flower beds and I freaked out and sprayed him down with a hose. I have no idea how to face him now. Jisung was there, too._

Seungmin’s mood shifted from anger to mortification as soon as he put down his pen.

“And now?” Hyunjin asks, hopeful, and effectively snaps him out of his reverie.

Seungmin shrugs. “Mostly over it, I guess. I know you and Jisung didn’t _intentionally_ try to ruin my begonias, and I was out of line yesterday when I drenched you like that. Sorry.”

“Really? I thought you went pretty easy on us considering how much flowers mean to you.” The blonde grows even more flustered beneath Seungmin’s unwavering gaze. Hyunjin clears his throat and continues on. “I just meant that I noticed how much time you spend after school tending to them. I can see you doing it during soccer practice, between drills and whatnot. I think I’ve gotten into the habit of zoning out and watching you. Not like, in a weird way or anything, although I guess that’s up to you to decide. Anyways, I’m rambling.”

It’s cute.

 _Hyunjin_ is cute.

“Still, I apologize. And I appreciate you taking responsibility” Seungmin makes a vague gesture towards the scene in front of him: Hyunjin sprawled out across his trampled begonias, spade abandoned a few feet away “or whatever it is you are trying to do.”

His classmate explains, “I wanted to help you replant!” And then deflates. “But I guess I didn’t really stop to consider the fact that I have no clue what I’m doing.” He ends the confession with a pout.

Seungmin takes in the sight of the other’s rumpled appearance, even though Hyunjin still looks like he could have stepped out from the cover of a fashion catalogue regardless. “That much is obvious. Did you at least bring a spare change of clothes?”

“No,” Hyunjin whines, pointing an accusatory finger in Seungmin’s direction. “You’re always so clean and put together, I also didn’t stop to think about how much dirt, sweat, and bugs you put up with on a daily basis!”

Seungmin doesn’t think much about it either, to be honest. He has a pair of overalls hanging in his gym locker that he wears to track mud and dirt all over and usually spends his time gardening after school so he can go straight home and shower off the day.

Hyunjin, overeager, had dove right in without anything except the literal clothes on his back.

Softly, Seungmin offers the blonde the spare shirt he keeps folded in the top cubby of his locker, for emergencies such as this (if stumbling upon your not-crush rolling around in the dirt trying to save your barely budding begonias counts as an emergency). He figures it’ll fit since they’re almost the same height, only Seungmin’s a little broader compared to Hyunjin’s more modelesque physique. The fabric might swallow him a bit, but the blonde is so annoyingly handsome, he could definitely pull it off.

“Come on. Class is starting soon.” Seungmin also offers Hyunjin a hand, which he eagerly takes as they both stand and straighten up. There’s a smudge of dirt across Hyunjin’s cheekbones and Seungmin moves to wipe it without thinking much about the action. His skin is soft and smooth beneath the pad of Seungmin’s thumb—and impossibly warm too, probably due to the way Hyunjin’s been out in the sun for what must have been a while now. The way his cheeks are beginning to redden speak to that as well.

“Seungmin—” Hyunjin starts, hesitation evident in the way he licks his lips.

“Oh sorry, you just had a little dirt there.”

But Hyunjin doesn’t seem to be too fussed about it now, eyes locking onto Seungmin’s face with a sort of steely determination. He takes a deep breath. “I’m serious about you, you know.”

There’s nothing overly complicated or shrouded about the words, but it takes several seconds for them to register in Seungmin’s brain. In a literal sense, the meaning is clear, but the figurative context Hyunjin is referring to is vague enough to stump him.

He tilts his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

In that deceptively long moment between his declaration and Seungmin’s request for clarification, Hyunjin looks like he’s regretting his words. The tips of his ears are dangerously close to combusting and he shifts nervously from foot to foot, as if suddenly thrown off-balance. Stuck between a million things to say, Hyunjin eventually settles on “Making up for yesterday, I mean. Helping you grow something new.”

As if sensing that Seungmin is about to protest, he tries a different approach. “Please?”

And Seungmin . . . well Seungmin can’t exactly say no.

-

They come to a tentative agreement that the Tuesdays and Thursdays that Hyunjin doesn’t have soccer practice will be dedicated to helping Seungmin around after school. Personally, it seems like way too big of a time commitment to spend on something that was an unintentional mistake, and Seungmin doesn’t see Jisung undertaking that kind of effort for the sake of saying sorry, but Hyunjin is determined to make amends.

It’s something Seungmin has always admired about his classmate—the way Hyunjin commits to things 110%, no matter what it is. He works hard indiscriminately, always trying to prove himself, and isn’t selective of the things he puts his efforts towards. Everything warrants Hyunjin’s full dedication, even something as measly as planting a couple of flower beds in his free time.

That afternoon finds the two of them on a bus headed to the nearest hardware store to pick up more seeds and supplies. Seungmin has made do with one (incomplete) set of gardening tools all semester, but feels good about getting his budget approved on Friday, and has decided to spring for new equipment.

“It’ll have to do until next year,” he tells Hyunjin, off-handedly. They’re squeezed together at the back of the bus, thighs touching, as Seungmin tries to keep track of where they are. He doesn’t want to miss their stop and have to spend more time outside walking than is strictly necessary, especially in the midst of an exceptionally balmy day. With temperatures in the mid-30s, Seungmin thinks he might have to peel himself off of the leather bus seat in order to leave.

“What happens next year?” Hyunjin asks curiously.

“I can finally put in an application for official club status. I missed the deadline by a few weeks this year, which is why I’m doing everything by myself, for now. But I think with a little bit of advertising and recruitment, we can find a decent amount of people interested in gardening, and get some more funding from student council to really get going.” Seungmin vibrates in his seat at the thought of more like-minded people tending to a variable ecosystem of flora and fauna on campus grounds. “I can’t wait to see how everything comes together next spring.”

Hyunjin smiles, the little mole beneath his eye disappearing into the crescent shapes that form as he takes in Seungmin’s open-mouthed excitement. “You must really like flowers, Minnie.”

Surprised, Seungmin blooms at the nickname that slips so effortlessly from the other’s lips, sweet as honeysuckle nectar, as tiny tendrils stretch and hook onto the surface of Seungmin’s heart.

“What’s not to like?”

“Exactly. What’s not to like?” Hyunjin repeats, but something in the way he says it makes Seungmin unsure if they’re still talking about flowers.

He doesn’t dwell on it for long though because Hyunjin takes the opportunity to place his head on Seungmin’s shoulder just as easily as he does everything else, like calling him Minnie. The weight of it is comforting, even if it’s a little too hot for any more body heat in this weather. Hyunjin smells vaguely like orchids and banana milk, and Seungmin finds that he doesn’t actually mind. The blonde has always been easy-going with his affections and Seungmin supposes that three years of sharing the same homeroom is enough of a rapport for Hyunjin to shed what little inhibitions he has about skinship.

“Wake me up when we get there,” Hyunjin yawns and closes his eyes.

The tendrils grow deeper, but it doesn’t hurt when they burrow.

-

“Okay, so what you’re going to do is dig a little hole, no more than an inch or two deep, and drop one or two seeds inside. Cover it up with dirt before watering completely. Pretty elementary stuff, really. But oh! Remember to leave a little bit of space between each hole.”

“Why?” Hyunjin asks, peering over Seungmin’s shoulder as the younger finishes up his demonstration. He is similarly dressed in a pair of denim overalls, blonde locks pulled back into the half-bun he sports when he wants everything neatly out of his face. _A couple look!_ Hyunjin had exclaimed upon meeting up with Seungmin after school, only he rests definitively on the side of chic compared to Seungmin’s country bumpkin vibes.

Still, Seungmin is strangely pleased by the idea of passing strangers linking the two of them together in their minds, so unlike reality, where he and Hyunjin run in parallel lines. Some days, fresh off a soccer win or in the midst of a dance competition, moments when Hyunjin shines the brightest, it feels like they’re on separate planes of existence altogether.

“So that they don’t become overcrowded and have to fight over the same resources later on. Flowers deserve to bloom on their own time, in their own way, don’t you think?”

“Like people?” Hyunjin grins so sparkling, Seungmin doesn’t have the heart to tease him for acting like such a pseudo-intellectual. Not that Hyunjin gives him the chance—he immediately takes Seungmin’s answering smile as an invitation to launch into his next train of thought. “If I were a flower, I think I’d want to be a rose.”

“Why?”

Hyunjin playfully bumps shoulders, as if the answer should be obvious. The spot tingles afterwards, but from any lingering pain. “They’re the most romantic! And I was born to love and be loved.”

Seungmin can’t argue with his logic, but does so anyway, on principle alone. “Do these cheesy lines come naturally, or do you have to practice them in the mirror at night?”

“If you were a flower, you’d be a thorn bush, you prickly son of a bitch.”

Seungmin laughs, because he can’t help it. Hyunjin’s smile only widens.

“If anything, you’d be a sunflower,” he says casually, like Seungmin hasn’t put extensive thought into this topic, staring at the back of Hyunjin’s head during class.

“Why?” Hyunjin asks, and it’s a little hesitant. A whole lot hopeful.

Seungmin sits back on his heels, contemplating how much he wishes to reveal. “They’re tall,” he starts lamely and for some reason, Hyunjin’s disappointed expression spurs him to unfurl the more intimate parts of his reasoning. The thoughts that burst like soap bubbles in the pit of Seungmin’s stomach, soft and sweet, far too delicate to contain. “Beautiful and bold. They symbolize a lot of things, but mainly happiness and adoration. I guess I just associate you with bright and beautiful things.”

Hyunjin smiles again, but it’s different this time. Less wide and infinitely warm. It tickles something deep in Seungmin’s heart.

“If I were a sunflower, then that would make you the Sun.”

-

It doesn’t take long for the camaraderie between the two to transcend beyond just planting flowers after school. Hyunjin has never been the type to compartmentalize anything, his essence bleeding through to every aspect of his life, the glue that holds all the disparate pieces together.

His classmate, while always friendly, is even more so during school hours, and isn’t afraid to loop arms together in the hallways or drag Seungmin towards his table during lunch. It seems like trampling over his begonias has opened the floodgates towards friendship and Hyunjin’s easy companionship, which doesn’t allow Seungmin the time or space to be overwhelmed as he is effortlessly folded into Hyunjin’s friend group and day to day operations.

Even when Felix comes back from Australia, he is similarly subject to Hyunjin’s gravitational pull, as it turns out the two of them and Jisung get on thick as thieves. Which, all things considered, makes total sense given that they all have a similar sense of humor and one shared brain cell between them. Seungmin finds himself the voice of reason when they all get together, although he’s not immune to getting swept up by everyone’s unbridled enthusiasm towards being the biggest idiots of all time. In all honesty, Seungmin has more fun this way despite knowing he’s going to get put in charge of cleaning up everyone’s messes afterwards.

Felix confronts him a few Saturdays after his return, the two of them having a leisurely study date at the coffee shop around the corner from Seungmin’s apartment.

“So what’s up with you and Hyunjin?”

Seungmin takes a careful sip out of his iced Americano, still too bitter for his tastes, but something he’s grown accustomed to drinking since Hyunjin more often than not drops one off at his desk in the mornings. Staring down at the ice cubes and categorically avoiding Felix’s gaze, Seungmin answers “Nothing.”

This is evidently not the response Felix is looking for. He frowns. “But what about all the time you’ve been spending together? Or the way you make moony eyes at each other when the other looks away? You’re telling me that’s nothing?”

“We don’t make mooney eyes at each other,” Seungmin denies.

“Dude, I literally watch you two do it all day during class. It’s sickening.”

“Then maybe start paying attention to lectures?”

“As if,” Felix scoffs. “Paying attention? It’s like you don’t even know me.” He shovels the remaining bites of their shared cheesecake into his mouth. Seungmin hopes the freckled boy is generous enough to drop the subject altogether, but to no avail. Felix sprays crumbs all over the table when he says, “I bet Hyunjin confesses first.”

“Hyunjin?” Seungmin parrots, perplexed. “Confess what?”

Felix swallows before replying. Thank God. “His undying love.”

A beat passes before the words fully sink in and Seungmin doesn’t know why his heart pinches so acutely when he says, “Hyunjin is not in love with me.”

Felix levels him a look that conveys every ounce of his doubt that Seungmin holds the highest marks in school. Not when Seungmin insists on being this _dumb_. “Says you,” Felix rolls his eyes. “He practically hangs off of you when he’s not hanging off of your every word.”

“You know he’s just really affectionate with everyone.”

“It’s different with you,” the blonde insists, an annoyingly sage twinkle in his expressive brown eyes.

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about but also, I don’t care enough to ask you to elaborate. Hyunjin and I are just friends.”

“No, Seungmin-ah. You and I are _just friends_. You and Hyunjin are in a league of your own.”

-

Seungmin thinks about Felix’s words for far longer than something he initially dismissed as a joke should warrant.

He tries to keep watch on Hyunjin’s actions, comparing and contrasting them with how he treats the others around them, and can’t come up with this veritable difference Felix is referring to. If anything, there’s almost a hesitancy between them; a frailty Seungmin sometimes feels that gives him pause and makes him wonder if maybe Hyunjin doesn’t like him as much as he likes Hyunjin. Like the slight wavering before Hyunjin sidles up to Seungmin’s side or the way he shrinks when Seungmin looks at him for too long. A nervousness that he can’t explain.

But in equal measure, Hyunjin is bold. He has to be in order to break down Seungmin’s walls.

And it’s entirely too warm. The feeling Seungmin gets that when Hyunjin looks at him, he sees so much more than the contrived stereotype Seungmin gets boxed into.

It makes him hope for things he can’t put a name to.

Seungmin feels this way especially during the times when Hyunjin will drag Seungmin outside for lunch, leaning his back against a magnolia tree after he lays out his food spread and tells Seungmin to dig in. It is always an impressive display of Korean cuisine that Hyunjin specifically requests his mom to pack since he knows traditional is Seungmin’s favorite genre of food. Even though sandwiches are easier to make and much more transportable compared to the kimchi chigae he has to carry around in a beat-up old, thermos, it always feels worth it to see the smile on Seungmin’s lips.

At least, that’s what he always says. “I just like seeing you eat well,” Hyunjin shrugs off cooly, but the way he blushes from cheek to cheek speaks to something more.

It’s only reinforced after school when Hyunjin uses his 15 minute breaks from practice to deliver Seungmin a cold drink or snack from the vending machine outside the locker rooms. Jisung is always sent to retrieve him immediately afterwards, and Seungmin suspects Hyunjin gets an earful from his coach every time, but still the blonde persists in his unauthorized excursions.

“Hyunjin, you don’t have to keep doing this. I always come well-prepared.” To prove his point, Seungmin gestures towards an insulated water bottle laying neatly in a patch of grass off to the side. It’s nearly empty, as he had downed most of it after twenty minutes of weeding, but Hyunjin doesn’t need to know that.

“Bold of you to assume this is about you and not about the fact that I need an excuse for more break time,” Hyunjin laughs. He flops down beside the aforementioned water bottle, gently placing his accompanying can of sikhye against his forehead in an effort to cool down. Seungmin admires Hyunjin’s long limbs and the way his sweat-slickened jersey sticks so effortlessly to his well-sculpted frame. In a strictly platonic manner, of course.

“Are you allowed to keep using me as an excuse? Wouldn’t it lose its potency after a while?”

“Nah,” Hyunjin hums. “Everyone on the team knows that I li—”

“Knows what?” he prompts, after a couple seconds and Hyunjin doesn’t pick up where he left off.

“Nothing. Just that I am a serial slacker, I guess.”

At that, Seungmin frowns. He peels off his gloves and moves to join Hyunjin in the grass. Without thinking, the two of them turn so that they’re laying face to face, only Seungmin thinks he might have laid down too close because he can feel the ghost of Hyunjin’s breath across his face. “Hyunjin, you’re not a slacker.”

“That’s nice of you to say, Minnie.”

“I’m not just saying it. I _mean_ it. You’re very much the hardest-working person I know.”

Hyunjin tries to make light of the situation, laughing off Seungmin’s sincerity with a casual, “You don’t think I’m just a pretty face?”

“If you’re fishing for compliments, then the answer is yes. Yours is the prettiest I’ve ever seen, by far. But I also think you work twice as hard as everyone else because of it.” Seungmin sighs, flopping over because he feels embarrassed to admit any of this. He closes his eyes and tries to convince himself that it’s the sun rays beaming down that’s making him feel so much warmer all of a sudden. “So I guess what I’m saying is that the two aren’t mutually exclusive. You can be both. You _are_ both.”

He still feels Hyunjin’s eyes boring into the side of his face. And then, quietly, the blonde says, “You’re not being fair. You don’t even do it on purpose.”

“Do what?” The moment seems more charged than any others the two have shared in their tentative two months of friendship, although Seungmin swears he’s felt shades of something similar throughout the years; moments that could have been something more, but fizzled out for some reason or another. Like a missed connection or an unspoken word.

If Hyunjin answers, he doesn’t hear it— Seungmin _can’t_ over the sound of his pounding heart.

-

It doesn’t come as a groundbreaking revelation, but it rocks Seungmin’s world nonetheless.

He is simply pruning magnolias when he imagines Hyunjin stopping midway to demand a picture for the gram, and that’s when Seungmin realizes that he actually _misses_ the blonde even though it hasn’t been more than an hour or two since they parted ways at the main doors. And that’s also when Seungmin thinks, _Oh shit, I like Hwang Hynunjin_ and every confusing, fluttering feeling he’s experienced over the last two months (arguably the last two _years_ ) clicks into place, a blanket of recognition and understanding enveloping his limbs to a point where he drops his shears and needs a moment to take it all in.

 _I like Hwang Hyunjin_.

The words repeat themselves like a mantra in his mind. It feels so incredibly obvious, now that Seungmin has come to terms with it.

He can practically hear Felix in his head singing “ _I told you so_ ” in that annoying way of his, teasing tone incongruent with the booming bass of his voice. Seungmin thinks about claiming victory on a technicality since he blew past having a simple crush on Hyunjin weeks ago and has settled for being head over heels instead, the amalgamation of nearly three years’ worth of unintentional, subconscious pining.

But what to do with this information? Seungmin’s not sure.

He is by no means a shrinking violet. Seungmin knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to lay out a twelve step plan in order to get it. But something about the idea of wooing Hyunjin makes him nervous—has always made him nervous, even on a subconscious level, and why he’s spent so long content to simply admire from afar.

Seungmin’s rarely unsure about things the way he’s unsure about Hyunjin—about whether his lingering touches or sudden interest extends beyond the boundaries of friendship, or if he’s allowed to take advantage of these things. To press closer into Hyunjin’s side, monopolize all of Hyunjin’s time.

In the days that follow, not much changes between them on the surface, other than the fact that Seungmin flinches everytime Hyunjin so much as glances in his direction because it’s suddenly overwhelming to be the center his classmate’s attention, and if it results in Seungmin pulling back a little, Hyunjin only complains about it 90% of the time.

“Minnie, are you mad at me?” he asks for the hundredth time. There is an impressive frown pulling at Hyunjin’s pillowy lips, more pronounced than anything Seungmin’s ever seen before. “You’ve been acting weird lately. Well . . . weirder than usual, anyways.”

Seungmin shrugs and puts a little more elbow grease into digging out a bundle of crocuses for transplanting. “Not really,” he claims, but the words ring false and somewhat brittle to his ears. Seungmin wants to believe that the tension between them is imagined, a figment of his own inability to pretend he isn’t spiraling every time Hyunjin comes near, but this is obviously not the case since Hyunjin notices enough to point it out.

“Did I do something wrong?” His voice is so unbelievably quiet.

Seungmin feels guilty because Hyunjin actually looks sad, eyebrows drawn and dark eyes cast downwards. This is something way beyond his usual dramatics, that’s for sure. He can feel the hurt rolling off Hyunjin in waves, his misery almost visible and if Seungmin reaches out, he wonders if he would be able to touch it as well.

“What makes you think you did something wrong?” Seungmin asks, so he’ll know exactly what behaviors he needs to fix, and to identify the gaps in their budding relationship where he has to _pretend_ because Seungmin isn’t bold enough to confess. At least not yet. Not when he’s certain that Hyunjin doesn’t like him back. Doesn’t, will never, etc.

“You don’t look at me anymore,” the blonde points out, and frowns when he realizes how childish it sounds to voice that certain observation aloud. Seungmin understands him though, on a level so profound it pierces straight through his heart. He's going through withdrawals trying to avoid Hyunjin's gaze, a jittery kind of itch that he tries to suppress.

It was nice, for a while, feeling like he and Hyunjin were on the same page, compared to now, when Seungmin’s afraid they’re not even reading the same _book_.

“It’s not you,” he explains and cringes almost immediately. It’s such a lame excuse to give. Seungmin tries to course-correct mid-sentence, but what comes out is much more vulnerable and obvious than he had ever intended. “I’m just overthinking things, as usual. I’ve never lacked this much confidence in something before.”

“Confidence in what? Your gardening?”

“In a way.” Seungmin is being purposefully cryptic. To not reveal too much of his hand, as he is wont to do around Hyunjin. “Starting something and watching it grow.”

Mirroring each other, they both sit up.

“Minnie, you have the greenest thumb I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, but people are different.”

He can see the question forming in Hyunjin’s mind. The older doesn’t get the opportunity to ask it before they are interrupted.

Minho slinks up to them, as silent as a cat, and only announces his presence via the shadow he casts. Seungmin looks up, shielding his eyes with a gloved hand from the sun, as they focus in on the smile curling across the senior’s lips.

“Just here to check in on my investment,” Minho says in lieu of a greeting. His tie hangs loose and undone, track marks visible from where he’s run his hand repeatedly through his hair. The afternoon haze casts him in a soft, orangey glow.

“If anything, I earned this budget _in spite_ of you, hyung. Also, why are you here so late? You hate staying after.” Minho loves to grumbles and whine, but is the type to endure until the end. It’s one of the main characteristics that got him elected as President in the first place.

He rolls his eyes in demonstration of his annoyance. “Spring Carnival prep.”

“Ah.” Seungmin’s glad he’s only in charge of looking over money and logistics. All of his fellow student council members are running haggard trying to make sure the event goes off without a hitch—a highly ambitious attempt, but one everyone’s determined to pull off since it’s the school’s big centennial. He gets roped into the occasional planning meeting, but is mostly left to tend to his flowers. Seungmin thinks his hydrangeas might reach full bloom just in time.

“What? You’re not going to poke fun at my misery?”

Seungmin shakes his head, teasing. “It’s everyone else I feel sorry for, having to spend all that extra time in your presence.”

“Brat.”

“Geezer.”

“I’m gonna propose a motion for your dismissal.”

“Do it and let’s see how fast the budget falls apart.”

Without a solid comeback to that, Minho moves to noogie Seungmin’s head, but the lack of force turns the action into a gentle head pat instead.

He smiles up at his senior.

Hyunjin, who had been silent up until this point, noisily clears his throat.

“Who’s this?” Minho casts wide, mischievous eyes over to the blonde on Seungmin’s right. Hyunjin stiffens and straightens his back, rising to his full height to shake Minho’s hand. It is a strange sight to see and one that puzzles Seungmin because of how _serious_ Hyunjin is acting.

Minho, as if sensing the bait but refusing to bite, only laughs. “What’s this?”

“I’m Hyunjin. Nice to meet you.”

The senior stares at Hyunjin’s outstretched hand for long enough that the younger eventually backs down and lets it flop uselessly to his side. Still, there is something unyielding in Hyunjin’s gaze that makes Seungmin’s heart skip a beat.

“This is Minho-hyung,” Seungmin feels the need to interject. Or at least break up some of the weird tension that’s formed between the three of them. “You probably recognize him from Student Council. He gave the opening speech last fall.”

Minho grins easily. “Are you new here? I’ve never seen you around Seungminnie before.”

Something in their familiarity makes Hyunjin flinch. “No. We’ve been classmates for years now.”

“I see. And how long have you been in love with him?”

This is enough to fluster the blonde, who takes a half-step back as if they had come to blows. “Wh-what?”

“Was it the whole time? Or a more recent development?”

At this point, Seungmin finally steps in, taking pity on Hyunjin’s rapidly reddening face. “Stop it, hyung. Hyunjin is not in love with me.”

It still pinches to say it aloud.

Minho puts up both hands, as if to signal a cease-fire. There’s clear disbelief in his eyes and underneath it, the same hint of mischief. Minho wakes up and chooses chaos. “Fine. Just take it as jealousy that I am no longer the prettiest flower in your garden.”

“What are you even talking about? Stop speaking nonsense.”

But Minho is already walking away, waving one hand lazily over his shoulder as he heads towards the main gates. “See you Friday!”

Seungmin rolls his eyes.

“You two seem close.” There’s a catch in Hyunjin’s voice, an emotion he can’t quite place.

“Not sure what in the world would give you that impression. He’s the worst.” Despite the insult, there’s no bite to the words. Seungmin _is_ rather fond of his senior, but he’d rather eat rocks than admit it to anyone else.

He turns his attention away from Minho’s retreating back to Hyunjin’s stricken face. Seungmin doesn’t understand the subtext of what’s happening or why he feels like something big is about to happen.

“Do you,” Hyunjin's throat closes around nothing as he swallows a large gulp of air. “Do you like him, Minnie? In that way?”

“In what way?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer immediately, too preoccupied with watching the branches of a nearby magnolia tree swing in the breeze. The stray petals that get dislodged are too big and weighty to do anything other than drop quickly to the ground, but the sight of it seems to trigger something in Hyunjin’s memory.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” The question seems entirely random.

Seungmin roots around in his memory, surprised to find that the answer does not come quickly despite how much of his brain capacity is spent on memorizing everything related to Hyunjin. After a minute, he finds that he can’t actually recall.

“No?”

“It was actually during the spring before high school, when we took our entrance exams. The cherry blossoms were out. You were wearing a baby blue sweater. I can’t seem to forget the sight of it.”

“You probably don’t remember me though, because I had on a baseball cap and mask. I was feeling under the weather that day, but my mom dragged me out of bed to take the test, just in case I got in. To be honest, I had fully intended to bubble in all C’s and leave it at that, because I wanted to go to the local high school with all of my other friends. I was actually coming up with excuses for my poor performance when I tripped without realizing how the zipper on my backpack had come undone. The biggest casualty was my thermos, which rolled down that huge hill by the east entrance and stopped at your feet.”

Seungmin pictures the beat-up old thermos Hyunjin carries around with him everywhere, scratched and dented beyond saving, and entirely incongruent with the rest of Hyunjin’s neat belongings.

“I don’t know why you made such a huge impression on me that day, but it was like I was possessed or something. I couldn’t look away from you, even after you handed me back my thermos and wished me good luck on the exam. And when we ended up in the same testing room, it didn’t occur to me to do anything but my best if it meant going to the same school as you.”

“And when we ended up in the same homeroom that first day, I thought ‘ _This is my chance_ ’ because I had spent all summer building up our first, real encounter in my head. Only the opportunity to introduce myself never came up and the circles we ran in started getting further and further away, until it felt weird and unnatural to initiate anything friendlier than just acknowledging that you exist. Even though, to me, your existence is . . . an embarrassingly precious thing.”

“But now it seems like everyone in the world knows how I feel about you, except for you. Even though I’ve dropped so many hints and told you in so many ways. I spent so many years just wanting to be your friend, but after a few months in, I don’t know if I can be satisfied with just this. Not when I’ve grown greedy for so much more.”

He takes Seungmin’s hands in his own, soft fingertips brushing against the back of his wrist. Dazedly, he wonders if Hyunjin can feel his pulse pounding at a mile a minute, stuttering and stopping in time with every pause in Hyunjin’s confession.

He continues: “Minnie, I want to be your _everything_. I want you to love me the way you love your flowers. To be the prettiest one you raise in your garden. I want you to like me in the way that I like you—have _always_ liked you. This entire time.”

Seungmin feels like the wind’s been knocked out of his sails and then promptly blown back in again, buoying his body ten feet off the ground, untethered except for the steady grasp of Hyunjin’s hands. He feels light-headed all of a sudden. Or maybe it’s just whiplash—to go from acknowledging the fact that he likes Hyunjin in a devastating kind of way, to suddenly being on the receiving end of a confession so sweet it makes Seungmin’s toes curl in his Converse shoes.

“Um,” Seungmin says for the sake of saying something and not letting Hyunjin marinate in nervous anticipation. But Seungmin is nervous, too, and has no idea how to respond in a way that properly conveys every ounce of Seungmin’s happiness and reciprocation. The way he couldn’t respond out of surprise when Hyunjin asks after his vacation and then later that day, when he tramples over Seungmin’s begonias.

He carefully extracts his hands, which causes Hyunjin’s face to fall in a beat of crushing disappointment. Seungmin doesn’t let his suffering go on for too long, moving to grasp the older’s head gently between two sweaty palms. He leans in slowly and hovers, for seconds, mere centimeters from the two lips he’s been fantasizing about for years.

“Two lips, tulips.” Seungmin laughs at his own joke. Maybe he’s going crazy, but he just wants to kiss Hyunjin so bad. “Jinnie, can I kiss you?”

The question lingers.

Hyunjin responds by closing the gap.

It is the sweetest taste he’s ever known. Like nectar and honey. Like Hwang Hyunjin.

-

Jisung is sent to retrieve Hyunjin after he’s ten minutes late coming back from their break.

The sight he sees beneath the magnolia trees has him turning right back around.

“Finally.”

**Author's Note:**

> hello. i blinked and became a seungjin supremacist. i've also been camping out in this tag for a while now and didn't really intend to do anything other than consume this sweet, sweet content, but then i came across this poem by e.e. cummings and couldn't get this image of hyunjin out of head so long story short, what's up stayo3, it's me, ya girl.
> 
> i'm actually??????? terrified that this is boring and entirely self-indulgent, but i hope you all liked it anyways. please let me know what you think!!! i've only ever posted for one fandom before so i'm v nervous about potentially joining a new one. i have a bunch of half-written stuff already so you might see more of me around in the future.
> 
> thanks for reading!   
>  **other stuff:**  
>  \- [wish you were sober](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28887270/chapters/70867236)  
> -[my skz ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloncafe)  
> 
> 
> you can find me [here](http://www.twitter.com/stansmola) in the meantime.


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